


For your life

by Zooey_Glass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Schmoop, Wincest - Freeform, deal!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-01
Updated: 2008-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zooey_Glass/pseuds/Zooey_Glass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>'Exclusive, one-off reunion concert,' Sam says smugly. 'Chance of a lifetime.'</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	For your life

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for Aynslee, Christmas 2007.

It's hard enough to get Dean onto the plane for a half-hour flight, so Sam is profoundly grateful that his brother is too busy pretending not to panic and humming Metallica to notice that the flight they've checked into is to London, England, not London, Ohio.

When the pilot makes his announcements and Dean _does_ realise just how long he's going to be on the plane, Sam only just escapes receiving an injury to a part of his anatomy they'd both _really_ rather stayed in working order. He waves the tickets under Dean's nose desperately.

'...the hell you think you're - Led Zeppelin...?' Dean's brought up short from his rant.

'Exclusive, one-off reunion concert,' Sam says smugly. 'Chance of a lifetime.'

Dean opens and closes his mouth a few times, helplessly.

'I'll still have to kill you for this,' he says finally. His hand settles heavy and warm on Sam's thigh. 'After the show.'

Sam just keeps grinning.

* * *

Dean doesn't stop grinning the whole way through the show, even when an extremely fat and sweaty guy presses up against him and spills beer down his leather jacket. He's still flying high when the last song's been played and the crowd is spilling out on the street.

'When they played _Nobody's Fault_, oh dude. I can die happy, now.' Dean's happy glow diminishes for a second when he realises what he's said, because they've had a moratorium on those kind of comments for a while now.

Sam doesn't stop smiling. 'Yeah, about that. You might want to hold off for a while.'

Dean stares at him. 'Sam, if I try to break the deal -'

'If _you_ try to break the deal, yeah.' Sam pulls out a little wooden carving, recognisably Dean except for how it has a big shiny patch smack bang in the middle of its chest. 'You really think I'd bring you all the way to England just to see a bunch of granddads? That guy who spilled his drink on you is the foremost expert in soul magic in the Western hemisphere. He just had to baptise you in the flesh to make the spell stick.'

'Then this...' Dean gestures at the Dean doll. 'You got my soul back?'

Sam just smiles, the kind of smile that says if he tries to say anything he'll end up crying like a girl.

'_Dude_.'

And maybe Sam could have gone with the crying thing after all, because Dean kisses him right there in the street, big Hollywood smacker, and maybe that even tops seeing Led Zeppelin play live.


End file.
